


Brother Corrupted

by Deeranger



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Sam Winchester, Dark, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Dominance, Don't Like Don't Read, Drugged Sex, Evil Dean Winchester, Explicit Sexual Content, Forced Orgasm, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Not Safe Sane and Consensual, Poor Sam Winchester, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Roughness, Scary Dean Winchester, Season/Series 02, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Assault, Sibling Incest, Smut, Tied-Up Sam Winchester, Top Dean Winchester, Triggers, Tumblr Prompt, Wincest Writing Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 18:24:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16770454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deeranger/pseuds/Deeranger
Summary: The Winchester brothers don't get along too well these days. Sam is worried about what has gotten into Dean and why he has been giving him the silent treatment for months, shutting him out completely. But one night when Sam returns to their motel Dean has decided to tell him why. Only it isn't what Sam was expecting. At all. And suddenly he finds himself in the middle of a freakish nightmare that he can't seem to wake up from.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic as part of the WincestWritingChallenge (round 24) on Tumblr.  
> The prompt was "best/worst date" and my partner was Palishere whose lovely take on the prompt you can find here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16770451

A waning moon was casting down its pale light onto the parking lot, illuminating it in a soft yellowish hue. Sam’s boots scraped lightly against the frosty asphalt as he walked past the parked Impala and up to the motel door, fumbling for the key in his pocket. The light pouring out from behind the drawn curtains in the windows let him know that Dean was apparently still up even though it was past midnight.

Shaking his head lightly Sam couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. These days his brother didn’t seem to sleep much and to be honest he was a bit worried about him. Not even Dean’s increasingly generous intake of beer and whiskey seemed to make him sleepy as it used to and on top of that he just seemed distant. Sometimes he even had an almost vacant look in his eyes. And no matter how much Sam tried to get his brother to talk to him, Dean was apparently completely uninterested in letting him in on what was going on. 

With his breath forming grey clouds of mist in the freezing air Sam fished the key out of his pocket. Carefully he knocked lightly on the door to make his presence known before shoving the key in the lock, turning it. He wondered if Dean was drunk off his ass again and if he would just sit and stare blankly at some game on the TV as he’d done so often lately, back turned and not speaking a word. Or if maybe he’d just lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling only to move when he took the occasional swig of whiskey from the bottle on the nightstand.

Sam tried to steel himself for whatever mood Dean might be in and he quickly opened the door, hurrying inside to escape the blistering cold of the parking lot. Stepping inside he instantly turned around to close the door, not wanting any of that frosty air to slip inside the comfortably warm motel room. 

“Hey,” he said lowly, his back to the room. The greeting had come out as if on autopilot, he realized. But he didn’t really expect an answer and he didn’t get one either. As usual.

He locked the door and shrugged off his jacket, tossing it in the corner. Still shuddering slightly from the cold he turned around, expecting Dean to either be practically glued to the TV or splayed lazily on his bed. But he wasn’t. Instead he was sitting on the nearest bed facing Sam, a smile on his face.

“Hi, Sammy!” he said, smiling wider.

Sam stopped in his tracks, suddenly not quite sure if he was imagining things. The smile on Dean’s face looked genuine, crinkles around his eyes spreading a little when Sam looked at him. And only now did Sam realize that the room was surprisingly neat. Actually it was tidy. The beds were made, there were no randomly tossed candy bar wrappers on the floor and the place just looked… Like a damn maid had just been here.

“What…?” Dean asked, sounding a little amused and Sam realized that he had to be looking absolutely baffled. He cleared his throat, an insecure smile finding its way to his lips.

“Umm… What is this?” Sam asked a little hesitantly, gaze flicking from one spotless surface in the room to the other. In the same moment he noticed that the room smelled of food. Dean just smiled wider.

“A surprise I guess. Now come on, I got us food!” Dean said, nodding his head towards the little table by the wall. Sam’s eyes widened a little when his glance fixed on the boxes of take-away Chinese food, steam rising from under their lids. Next to them were meticulously placed plastic chop sticks and two bottles of Budweiser, the glass dewy and covered in droplets of condensed water.

Sam frowned, looking back at Dean questioningly but he couldn’t help the small smile forming on his lips. He couldn’t tell if it was from pleasant surprise or insecure confusion though. Dean just let out a small grin and got up from the bed, gesturing for his brother to follow him to the table. Dumbstruck and still a little hesitant as if he didn’t quite trust his eyes Sam decided to follow.

“What’s going on, Dean?” he asked, stopping in front of one of the table’s chairs. His brother turned around to face him, his smile fading a tiny bit.

“Look, I know I’ve been a little… distant lately…” Dean said, lifting a hand to rake it through his hair. He almost looked nervous.

“Actually I’ve been a jerk and I just wanna make it up to you, ya know?” he said, letting his hand grip the back rest of a chair as he waited for Sam to respond. Shifting his weight from one foot to another he looked at his younger brother with a vulnerability in his eyes that Sam hadn’t seen in a long time. Like he needed some sort of verification. Like he was actually trying to apologize. The younger Winchester felt his jaw drop ever so slightly. And he almost felt a small pang of guilt seeing his brother like this.

“That’s… That’s really nice of you, but you didn’t have to do all this,” Sam said softly, sending Dean a little smile. Dean instantly lit up, the crinkles around his eyes returning when he let out a grin. He sounded relieved, Sam thought to himself. 

“Yes, I did. Now dig in or it’s gonna get cold,” Dean then said and pulled out the chair, quickly sitting himself down on it only to look up at Sam with an expectant look on his face. Sam had to hand it to him – he was really trying hard to make things right and apologize. In his own special way of course. Sam let out a small huff, still slightly bewildered by the whole situation.

“Alright,” he smiled, following Dean’s example and sitting himself down by the table. He had barely hit the seat before Dean shoved one of the boxes of food towards him along with an uncapped Budweiser.

“I found this amazing place a few blocks down. I’m tellin’ ya, Sammy, these noodles are finger lickin’ good!” Dean beamed, flicking open the paper flaps on his own box eagerly and picking up the chopsticks. He instantly stuck them into the food and pulled up a large mouthful of steaming hot noodles, pieces of leek and beef clinging to them. When Sam didn’t immediately follow suit Dean stilled and looked up at him, the food hovering in the air. For a moment they just stared at each other, Dean looking like one big question mark and Sam just looking dumbfounded. Dean then cast down his glance.

“I should have gotten you a salad, shouldn’t I?” he said in an almost sad tone of voice, jaw muscles clenching. Sam’s frown grew a little bigger.

“No. No, it’s good, Dean. Really. It’s just… a little much,” Sam said, almost stumbling on the words to get them out as fast as he could. He couldn’t bear the look on Dean’s face. The man looked truly disappointed, just staring blankly down at his box of noodles.

“I mean, you’ve barely said a word to me in two months and now you’re all cheerful and chatty all of a sudden…” Sam continued, feeling his heart sink a little as yet another pang of guilt hit him. His brother was apparently trying really hard to better the situation and here he was putting him down for it. Dean looked back up at him, eyes big and honest.

“It’s too much?” he asked carefully. Sam bit his lip and then nodded. But he hurried to send his brother a re-assuring smile.

“Well… Yeah. But that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it,” Sam said. He could see Dean chew on the inside of his cheek, looking contemplative.

“I could eat a horse though,” Sam then joked, trying to lighten the mood a little. Dean instantly lit up in a smile when Sam flicked open the box of noodles and stuck his chopsticks into it. Fishing up some pieces of juicy beef he looked at Dean, raising the food into the air a little as he sent him a grateful glance.

“Thanks,” he said, finally starting to relax a little. His brother might be a jerk sometimes but at least he was man enough to admit it. And you couldn’t exactly say that he wasn’t trying to make up for his mistakes. This might be slightly awkward but Sam knew what it must have taken for Dean to actually do this. It couldn’t have been easy.

“Don’t mention it,” Dean said cheerfully and stuffed the noodles into his mouth. Sam huffed, shaking his head in slight amusement of his brother’s way of apologizing. A pat on the shoulder and a simple word like ‘sorry’ would have been enough.

“Cheers, Sammy,” Dean said, raising his bottle of beer. Swallowing his mouthful of noodles Sam grabbed his own bottle. The cool glass surface felt chilly in his hand and he nodded at his brother – like a silent way of letting him know that he accepted this rather special and somewhat weird apology. 

“Cheers,” Sam said, bottles clinking against each other. They both took a few gulps of the cold Budweiser, silence settling in the motel room for a moment as they savored the taste. Not to mention the resolved tension. Dean looked near happy as he was slurping up noodles with his usual impressive appetite. Sam exhaled deeply, chewing on some leek and pieces of perfectly fried carrot. This actually was quite nice. And the Chinese wasn’t bad at all either.

“You know…” Sam began, trailing off a little in fear of ruining the moment.

“I wish you’d just talk to me,” he said, smiling meekly at his older brother and scooping up another mouthful of noodles. Dean looked up from his food with one of his eyebrows lifting itself up into an inquisitive arc.

“You know you can tell me everything, right?” Sam added, taking another swig of his beer. His glance was searching Dean’s face and he thought he saw something flicker across his features that hadn’t been there moments ago. Something that made Dean look regretful. Instantly worry washed through Sam and his mind began replaying the last two months, searching for all and any signs that he might have missed. Because Dean was acting like he was hiding something. And when his older brother broke eye contact to cast down his glance there was no doubt left in Sam’s mind that he was right.

“I just…” Dean started, but silence seemed to swallow whatever he was going to say. For a few long seconds there was completely quiet in the room while Dean was scraping his nail against the label on the beer bottle.

“Dean. Please. Just tell me?” Sam said softly. The last thing he wanted was for his brother to shut him out again. He needed to know what was going on in order to help him and hopefully he could nudge him in the right direction this way and get him to open up. But he also knew that Dean didn’t handle emotional pressure very well. It was a fine balance.

Dean licked his bottom lip, ridding it of the grease from the noodles. He looked contemplative and hesitant at the same time as if he was fighting some sort of internal battle right now. Having emptied his box of Chinese already he placed the chopsticks on top of it before taking another mouthful of beer. And finally he looked up at Sam, this time with an almost timid look on his face.

“I need you, Sam,” he then said in a surprisingly small voice. For a second or two Sam was just staring at him, unable to decipher what he might mean by that. But he had never seen his brother like this before. He looked vulnerable and scared and apprehensive all at the same time. He looked lost. And that made Sam fear the worst.

“I’m right here,” he said, trying to sound as calm as he could. He prayed that Dean would just tell him what this was all about. And he wondered what kind of trouble his brother might be in.

“No, Sam, I… I _need_ you,” Dean said, looking at Sam with a sincere look in his eyes. Sam frowned in confusion.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t felt it too,” Dean said in a soft voice and suddenly his hand placed itself on top of Sam’s on the table top. Instantly Sam’s glance flicked from his brother’s eyes to his hand and bewildered he felt warm fingers squeeze his a little.

“What?” Sam said, completely dumbstruck. Dean bit his lip.

“I know you feel the same way,” Dean said, fingers squeezing a little tighter. Perplexed and taken aback Sam felt himself stiffen. Dean was still just looking at him with a glint in his eyes that Sam couldn’t quite interpret.

“I mean, I see the way you look at me,” Dean said in a voice that had turned a tiny bit deeper and even more gravelly. Sam’s mouth dropped open. Was he joking? He had to be. But Sam honestly couldn’t tell, and it was making him nervous.

“Okay… This is officially the weirdest prank you ever pulled,” Sam said, a little out of breath. Finally he unfroze and started to pull his hand away from under Dean’s. But suddenly the calloused fingers on top of his squeezed a lot tighter, holding him in place.

“Does this look like a prank to you?” Dean said, just staring at Sam with an intensity that made the younger Winchester’s mouth suddenly go dry and his breath hitch.

“Dean, you’re freaking me out,” he managed to say and tried to free his hand once more, this time putting a bit more strength into it to get his point across. But this only resulted in Dean gripping him harder, his fingers closing around him like a vice.

“Is that all I am to you? Just some sort of prank?” Dean said, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Even though his words were teeming with anger he almost sounded genuinely hurt at the same time, and he pulled Sam towards him a little, making his elbow scoot across the table top. In the process the food boxes were knocked over along with the empty beer bottles, making them tumble to the floor where they landed with a soft clatter on the carpet.

“Let go of me!” Sam burst out, feeling how his stomach churned when instinctively a small ball of fear started to form there, leaving him feeling slightly nauseous. In the same moment he ripped his hand from Dean’s grip, earning some long, red scrapes from his brother’s nails on his skin as he went.

“So you’re just gonna deny it?!” Dean hissed, shooting up from his chair fast enough to make it tip over and fall to the floor. Sam got up from his chair at the same time, his glance darting past Dean’s shoulder to fix on the motel room door behind him.

“What the hell are you talking about? Have you lost your mind?” Sam said, staring back at his brother. He couldn’t fathom what was happening and he found himself wondering if maybe Dean had been possessed by something or if maybe someone had put some sort of spell on him. His glance automatically settled on the duffle bag on one of the beds behind Dean. There was holy water in there along with other potentially useful things and right now he wished that he could reach it. 

“You were the one who wanted to talk, Sam!” Dean said, taking a step closer to his brother. Automatically Sam backed up a little and ended up bumping his back into the TV in the corner.

“Well, here we are! Talking! You happy now? Or are you gonna tease me some more?!” Dean continued, his face starting to turn a light red color from anger.

“What?! I’m not teasing you!” Sam said, finding his hands clenching into two nervous fists. He could feel how his breath was coming out in small, irregular puffs as his mind swirled to come up with some sort of answer to why his brother was acting this way.

“Oh, right!” Dean growled, narrowing his eyes as he took a step closer. Sam stiffened – both because of the sheer volume of his brother’s voice but also because of the fact that he was closing the distance between them.

“Well, we can play that game, I guess…!” Dean added, almost in a whisper, and suddenly he strode forwards and walked right into Sam’s personal space, stopping only a few inches from his face. Sam nearly flinched and he tried to back up again, only to smack against the TV on the wall once more.

“What?! What game? Dean, just stop!” he yelled, lifting his hands a little and taking a defensive stance. Feeling his heart race in his chest in a frantic rhythm he glared down at his brother wide-eyed, not quite able process what the hell was going on. He almost felt dizzy, real fear starting to ripple through him and every instinct screaming at him to get out of the room. But to leave he would have to move past Dean and right now it didn’t look like he would be able to do that without ending up in a physical confrontation.

“Dean, listen to me, you have to—“ Sam began, but before he could finish the sentence Dean’s hands were suddenly grabbing two fistfuls of his flannel shirt, pushing him hard against the TV and threatening to knock it right off the wall. Sam winced at the sudden impact, automatically grabbing both of Dean’s wrists to pry them off.

“Oww!! What the hell—“ Sam started, but Dean let out something that resembled a snarl.

“Shut up! Just shut up!” he spat, glaring at Sam with a stormy, green gaze so full of frustration and anger that it was almost unrecognizable. Sam froze by the sight and just stared at him in shock, hands still clasped around his wrists but no longer trying to wrench them off. For a moment they were just glaring at each other, gazes locked and chests heaving rapidly. A few seconds passed while Sam’s mind felt like it was spinning too fast for him to cling on to a single coherent thought and it was leaving him feeling dizzy and even more confused than before. What was going on?

Dean was still just glaring at him with that weird look in his eyes and Sam was about to resume the task of prying his brother’s hands off his shirt when Dean suddenly moved. Before Sam was able to register what was going on the older Winchester was pressing up against him, crashing his lips against his.


	2. Chapter 2

A moan coming from somewhere deep in Dean’s throat filled the room as he tried to snake his tongue inside Sam’s mouth. A muffled yelp instantly escaped Sam and he forcefully whipped his head to the side, ending the unwanted kiss just as abruptly as it had started. A wet trail of saliva was smeared across his chin in the process and with horror pooling in his gut Sam just stared at Dean, mouth slack and eyes wide. His heart was pounding hard enough for him to feel his vision blur a little with each beat. And apparently he was hyperventilating now because the room seemed to spin a bit.

“You can’t deny me, Sam!” Dean yelled, his voice piercing the silence in the cheap motel room and bouncing off the walls. He tightened his grip on Sam’s shirt, yanking at it as if he was trying to shake him.

“Get off me! Right now!” Sam boomed, finally resuming the fight to get Dean’s hands to let go of him. But Dean wasn’t budging and every time Sam managed to pry off some of his fingers, they would just grab him again.

“No,” Dean snapped back through gritted teeth, pressing himself against his brother again. The world seemed to wobble a little in front of Sam’s eyes and his heart did a painful double beat in his chest. 

“Enough!” he yelled, placing his hands on Dean’s chest and giving him a solid push. The force of it sent Dean stumbling backwards, finally making him lose his grip on Sam’s shirt. With an angry grunt the older Winchester bumped into the table and nearly fell over when he stepped on one of the empty beer bottles on the carpet. He barely managed to steady himself in time by grabbing the table plate and he sent Sam a furious glare.

“That all you got, Sammy?!” he hissed. His eyes were practically blazing. Sam was shaking his head in disbelief, chest heaving and droplets of sweat forming near his hairline.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sam then asked and cursed himself when his voice came out a lot more trembly than intended. Dean’s face twisted into an even angrier grimace.

“You damn well know what’s wrong!” Dean said, straightening himself up. He looked like he was readying himself for another round and again Sam couldn’t help but glance at the door in the far end of the room behind his brother. And apparently Dean noticed.

“Wanna leave? Go ahead… Leave! Just like you always do!” he said accusingly, bitterness lacing his voice along with a pinch of genuine hurt that made Sam’s heart sink. Lifting his hands into the air a tiny bit to try to communicate that he didn’t want to fight Sam slowly moved forwards a little, approaching his brother. He didn’t at all know if it was a good idea or not, but he needed to calm his brother down. And he needed to get out of the corner.

“Look…” he started, but trailed off when the ground seemed to move under his feet. Shaking his head to clear his mind he looked at Dean.

“I don’t know what’s happening. But this isn’t you. Please, Dean, tell me what’s going on…” Sam said softly, taking another careful step forwards when his brother didn’t move. Maybe he could talk some sense into him. And if he couldn’t he would have to go for the duffle bag. In worst case the door. But he really didn’t want to leave his brother alone in this state, so that would have to be the very last option.

“I already did,” Dean said matter-of-factly, this time in a more relaxed tone of voice. Sam frowned. He honestly didn’t know what had gotten into his brother. But this couldn’t be the Dean he knew. Could it?

“Dean, you can’t… You can’t have those feelings for me,” Sam said, trying to reason with the man in front of him. Worry, revulsion and compassion rolled through him at the same time and he didn’t know what to do with any of it. It only made him feel dizzy and lightheaded in a weird way that left him slightly nauseous. His head was buzzing.

“Why not?” was Dean’s simple response. Sam’s mouth dropped open and he just stared at Dean who crossed his arms across his chest, leaning against the table casually. Acting as if this was a completely normal conversation.

“B-Because you’re my brother…!” Sam burst out. The droplets of sweat on his forehead had turned bigger and had multiplied by the dozen now and frustrated he wiped at them with his sleeve. On top of that the room seemed even more wobbly than before.

“So?” Dean stated. And the look he was sending him was making Sam more than uncomfortable. He had to either get to the duffle bag or get the hell out. Obviously he couldn’t reason with his brother at this point. If the man in front of him even was his brother, he thought hazily. Taking another step forwards Sam realized that he felt strangely unsteady on his feet. Like his weight had doubled and his ankles weren’t strong enough to carry him properly. 

“What’s the matter, Sammy?” Dean said, a small and crooked smile appearing on his lips. 

“Feeling queasy?” he added nonchalantly, leaning a little heavier against the table and just looking Sam up and down. The look on his face was smug and instantly a wave of a whole new kind of fear washed through the younger Winchester, leaving him feeling chilly all of a sudden even though the room was warm. 

“What have you done…?” Sam asked, voice hoarse and almost cracking. Even though he was focusing his glance on his brother it seemed to want to skip sideways and dart off. His head felt like it was swimming and his thoughts felt strangely choppy and out of order. 

“I thought you might be like this. So I just gave you a little something to relax,” Dean said softly. His voice almost sounded sympathetic. He flashed a small smile which looked both compassionate and caring – but it only made Sam’s gut turn and twist painfully. 

“Y-You drugged me?!” Sam managed to spit out, not believing the words coming out of his brother’s mouth. Not believing the look on his face. The way he acted. Or this whole situation. It was too surreal to be happening. Snapping for air Sam stared at his brother, desperately trying to determine if he was having some sort of nightmare or if this was really taking place. But the smug smile on Dean’s face was slowly turning wider to spread into a superior grin and no matter how hard Sam tried to wake up it didn’t change a thing. He seemed to be stuck here. Right here and right now. In this motel room, drugged with an unknown substance and trapped in a corner with Dean blocking his way to the only exit.

Taking a shaky breath Sam thought his heart might leap out of his chest from the way it was banging frantically against his ribcage and he stared at Dean, taking a determined step forwards. He had to get out of here and he had to do it now – he knew that much – but as soon as he moved the room began to sail. The walls looked like they were waving at him, moving back and forth in a strange and swirling sort of motion. Dizzy he felt sheer panic start to creep through him and he shook his head, both trying to clear his mind and rid his vision of the motion blur that had started to form. Dean was still just smiling at him, leaned against the table and looking scarily relaxed.

“Get out of my way!” Sam burst out, not even realizing that he was slurring. And he finally strode forwards to try to pass his brother in front of him. He had to get out no matter if Dean would let him or not. But to Sam’s surprise Dean merely straightened back up and moved to the side, looking almost indifferent. And still with that smug grin on his face.

“Sure thing, Sammy…” he just said, letting out a small huff. Sam didn’t know what that meant – but right now he was way too scared to care and all he could think about was to reach the door. And so he quickly started walking past Dean before he might change his mind and block his way again. But as soon as he had taken a couple of steps the world seemed to wobble even more violently than before and suddenly he didn’t know what was up and what was down. Everything was spinning, the walls caving in on him and before he knew it he was supporting himself clumsily on the back rest of a chair. Breathing rapidly and hunched over the chair to keep standing just somewhat upright he screwed his eyes shut for a moment to get the world to stop spinning. Somewhere next to him he could hear Dean let out a low chuckle and he opened his eyes again, hoping to be able see straight this time. But he didn’t. Not in the slightest. Everything was lopsided and warped and Sam snapped for air, feeling breathless. And he knew that he had to make a run for it. Whatever Dean had given him was working quickly and its effect was intensifying by the second. He had already waited too long.

Sam heard himself take a deep breath when he pushed himself upright, straightening his back and letting go of the chair. And he fixed his glance on the door. It seemed to have almost liquefied, every surface moving and swirling in a way that made him feel both disoriented and sick to his stomach. Ignoring it he started to stagger towards it, lifting his hands into the air a little to help him keep his balance. But as soon as he had taken one step and started taking another his knees suddenly gave way beneath him. The world flipped and turned and rolled before his eyes and before he knew it he landed on his stomach on the floor with a grunt.

“Whoops,” Dean commented from somewhere, sounding amused. Blinking rapidly in another attempt to clear his vision Sam fumbled to get up. But it felt like he weighed something close to a ton, his whole body feeling so incredibly heavy that he didn’t have the strength to get back on his feet. Lactic acid was building in every muscle as he strained to get his body to comply, but it was like his limbs had turned strangely tingly and unresponsive. And he couldn’t get to his feet.

The realization sent a wave of panic through him and he found himself forcing his body up on all fours instead, crawling towards the nearest piece of furniture weakly. Frantically he fumbled to grab a hold of something and the frame of the nearest bed was the only thing in reach. Trying to pull himself up his hands were clinging on to the bed spread and sheet and almost pulled them off in the process. But he couldn’t get up. Instead he was just holding on to the corner of the bed in something that resembled an awkward embrace, clutching the sheets and panicky heaving for air.

Fighting gravity that seemed to have tripled was a losing battle. But on top of that he was starting to feel sleepy. Another wave of horror washed through him. And in the same moment the sound of Dean’s boots hitting the carpet with soft thuds caught his ear and once more he fought to get up from his kneeling position. But he failed. Again.

“Stop fighting it, Sammy,” Dean’s gravelly voice said sternly somewhere behind him. Sam felt his brother get down on the floor behind him. And with that a couple of muscular arms wrapped themselves around Sam’s chest and started to pull at him resolutely. Instantly Sam tensed up and tried to resist his brother tugging and pulling at him, clinging to the corner of the bed the best he could.

“C’mere!” Dean said, his warm breath hitting the shell of Sam’s ear in warm gusts of air. Panicky Sam made a protesting sound and by reflex he gathered the little strength he had, smacking his elbow backwards. He managed to catch Dean in the ribs with enough force to almost knock the wind out of him and he could hear him tumble to the ground with a surprised groan.

“Get away from me!” Sam slurred, continuing to try to get to his feet. But by now the drug was so deep in his system that he just sat there on his knees by the corner of the bed in a slumped heap, nearly motionless.

“Oh, you wanna play rough? Huh?” Dean huffed, wincing as he got back up and approached his brother. The blow Sam had delivered wasn’t as hard as it would have normally been but it was definitely still enough to hurt and Dean shortly wondered if he’d be blue and green in the morning.

“We’ll play rough then,” the older Winchester concluded and closed the distance between them. Sam was helplessly trying to move in the opposite direction, finally abandoning his plans of getting to his feet. He knew by now that it was completely futile. Instead he let go of the bed and let himself fall to the carpeted floor in order to crawl towards the door. Shaking he strained his limbs to get them to actually move on all fours across the floor instead of just collapsing. He felt so heavy. And so sleepy. Even his eyelids were beginning to feel heavy, he realized.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” Dean said and once more his strong arms wrapped around Sam’s upper chest, pulling a lot harder this time. Before he had the time to react Sam felt the world spin and turn and nausea washed through him from the sudden movement when he was pulled up from the floor. Unable to determine what was up and what was down he felt Dean pulling at his now almost completely limp body, maneuvering him around like some sort of ragdoll – and suddenly Sam felt his back hit something soft and bouncy. Dean’s hands had left him and the room was spinning way too fast for Sam to even fix his glance at anything right now. Panicked and hazed his mind raced to figure out what was going on and his hands nervously closed into fists - only to grab something soft. Fabric. It was fabric. Some sort of cotton. A sheet. It could only be a sheet. Which meant that he was on one of the beds, Sam realized.

The mattress under him dipped down when Dean climbed onto it, the metal springs inside it screeching lightly under the extra weight. Dazed and confused Sam blinked rapidly. What was happening? Unable to answer his own question he tried to fix his gaze on the ceiling properly, but the whorls in the planks just kept wobbling out of focus. Then suddenly he felt Dean straddle him and he heard himself let out a soft gasp. 

“Always making things difficult…” Dean’s voice said above him. Sam’s brows furrowed in stunned surprise when his brother’s knees dug into the mattress on each side of his hips. Instantly he wanted to lash out but he realized that he couldn’t. Not properly at least. Instead of delivering a punch his hand only grazed Dean’s shoulder weakly and plopped right back down on the sheets.

“That’s cute,” Dean grumbled, and Sam felt his calloused fingers closing around his wrists, pinning them somewhere above his head.

“Leggo’ me…” Sam slurred, trying to buck hard enough to throw off his brother. But instead he ended up just squirming awkwardly and grinding his body against Dean’s.

“Eager, huh?” Dean chuckled and Sam flinched when he patted his cheek, now holding his wrists together with just one hand. Again Sam tried to twist and turn but his body didn’t obey him. And he couldn’t free his wrists even though he tried. He had never felt so weak in his life. So vulnerable.

“Sorry, Sammy. But you asked for it,” Dean said and in the same moment there was a metallic, rattling sound. At first Sam couldn’t identify it and it made him feel even more scared than he already was. If that was even possible. But then something was being wrapped around his wrists, something a little rigid and long, but with a smooth surface. Leather. It had to be Dean’s belt. Sam’s breath hitched - his own brother was tying him up.

“Stop it…!” Sam spat and tried to pull his hands free. But they didn’t move much in his brother’s hard grip and all too quickly the belt was looping around his wrists in all sorts of intricate ways, effectively immobilizing them completely and attaching them to the headboard of the bed.

“There. All set,” Dean said and let out a content grunt. Sam’s head was swimming, and he swallowed hard when he felt his brother shuffling a bit on top of him.

“Let’s get this off,” Dean said and Sam could feel him starting to unbutton his shirt, beginning with his collar. Drowsy and unable to stop his brother’s hands from wandering all he could do was to squirm lightly while his mind swirled in a growing panic.

One button down, five to go.

“Dean, stop,” Sam drawled, tugging weakly at the belt trapping his wrists. But of course it was to no avail. His limbs weren’t obeying his mind anymore and every fiber in his body felt like it was made of jelly. Above him he heard Dean let out a small huff of annoyance. 

Four buttons to go.

“Shut up,” Dean said and tore a little at the next button when it didn’t open as easily as the others.

Just three buttons left.

“Why’re you… What’re you doin’…?” Sam managed to ask, his voice slurred and hoarse. Somewhere in his hazed mind he thought he might know the answer to that question – but he instantly pushed the thought as far away as he possibly could, refusing to acknowledge its existence. Because it couldn’t be true. A chuckle escaped Dean.

Two buttons to go.

“Don’t be stupid,” Dean just said as he went, methodically working on Sam’s shirt with quick and skilled fingers.

“And quit the act,” he added bluntly. Sam shook his head in both confusion and a silent protest.

Only one button left.

“You don’t fool me, Sammy,” Dean said lowly, almost in a whisper, and then he opened the last button on the shirt. Looking close to awestruck Dean let his hands slip inside the now open flannel shirt, slowly pulling the sides of it apart to expose Sam’s naked torso underneath. The older Winchester almost looked like he was unwrapping a delicate present, his hands and fingers so gentle that Sam almost couldn’t feel them.

Letting out a small gasp Sam couldn’t help but notice how his nipples hardened when a small breeze softly swept across his feverishly hot skin, sending a chill through him even though the air in the motel room was warm. Slightly wide-eyed the man sitting on top of him looked down at his naked chest and stomach, drinking in the sight. 

“Beautiful,” Dean said under his breath. Carefully he let his hands settle on Sam’s chest, feeling how it heaved under his palms and how his brother’s heart was hammering frantically behind his ribs, leaving the younger man trembling. Looking mesmerized Dean trailed his fingertips along the contours of muscle beneath the tanned skin, ignoring Sam’s attempts to squirm away. 

“You know, Sammy… We can’t play pretend forever,” Dean then said, finally removing his exploring fingers. Sam wanted to let out a sigh of relief at the loss of physical contact but instantly it got stuck in his throat when his brother got back up from the bed and started to open his jeans. All too quickly he shed them, letting them pool around his ankles in a crumpled heap and left him standing wearing only in his T-shirt and underwear. Dean sent his younger brother a confident smirk.

“Dean…?” Sam said in a small voice and warily his gaze flicked down to the older Winchester’s black cotton trunks – and even though he had trouble focusing he couldn’t miss the hard outline of Dean’s dick raising an impressive tent in his underwear.

“I hope you’re ready for a taste, because I’m not gonna wait any longer,” Dean said and started approaching the bed again, palming himself through the underwear already a little wet with pre-cum. Sam felt like his heart was going to pound itself right out of his ribcage. This couldn’t be happening.

“God, you’re gonna look so good with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock,” Dean said, slipping his hands into his trunks and pulling himself free of the damp cotton confinement. Sam instantly averted his glance. 

“No. No, this is… This is wrong. You can’t—“ Sam protested. 

“Oh, this is all kinds of right!” Dean interrupted in a voice that had dropped a few notes and turned into a husky bass. And he gave himself a few, long strokes – shuddering from his own touch in excitement. And with that he let his underwear drop to the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

The mattress dipped with a small screech from its springs when Dean climbed back into the bed, green eyes fixed on his brother. There was something new and predatory in his gaze which Sam hadn’t seen before. A sort of hunger. The way that glance raked over his body had Sam’s stomach churning and weakly he dug his heels into the sheets, trying to back up towards the headboard of the bed. But it still felt like his limbs were made of lead and before he could get his legs to cooperate Dean had straddled him once more.

“Come on, Sammy. Quit playin’,” Dean said in a breathy voice as he scooted himself up Sam’s body, his weight now resting on his younger brother’s naked, upper chest. As he sat there Dean stroked himself again. Instantly Sam whipped his head to the side to avoid touching the heavy erection between his brother’s legs which was coming frighteningly close to his face.

“Stop…!” Sam gasped, staring panicky at the motel door. It was so close. But he stood no chance of reaching it. Not in his current state. And not with his brother sitting on top of him, threatening to squeeze the air out of him. Tugging at the belt trapping his hands above his head Sam felt Dean’s hand gently brush a loose strand of hair, wet from sweat, away from his face. The touch seemed almost affectionate. Caring. A new wave of nausea washed through Sam and he screwed his eyes shut when his older brother grabbed his chin, turning his head back to face him.

“Sam, I’m getting tired of this game,” Dean said. He sounded genuinely upset, something resembling disappointment now present in his voice.

“It’s-it’s not... It’s not a game!” Sam stuttered, not daring to open his eyes. Dean seemed to still by that response. Like Sam had struck a nerve somewhere. A tiny shimmer of renewed hope flashed in his mind and carefully Sam cracked his eyes open to look up at his brother. 

Sitting heavily on top of him Dean was just staring at him for a moment, expression unreadable. His breathing seemed to become a little heavier, a little faster - and then his grip on Sam’s chin suddenly tightened.

“Bullshit!” Dean hissed.

“I’m not blind! I’ve seen how you act around me! How you parade around wearing practically nothing, the looks you send me! You’re flaunting it, Sam, and I’m sick of it!” he spat, fingertips digging into Sam’s chin painfully. The younger man beneath him winced, letting out a small sound of protest which went by completely unnoticed.

“Well, guess what? I’m not playing your game anymore! You’re done teasing me!” Dean said, tightening his grip further on Sam who was starting to squirm with renewed fervor. Only the drugs in his system still had his limbs close to paralyzed and Dean easily held him down.

“I’m not teasing! Please, Dean! Untie me!” Sam said, almost yelled, while helplessly pulling at the belt. But with arms seemingly made of jelly his efforts were completely in vain. His older brother let out an annoyed huff. 

“No. You’re done, Sammy,” he said in a deep voice, oozing with anger. But despite the tone of his voice Dean seemed completely calm. Eerily calm in fact. With another protest getting stuck somewhere in his throat Sam could do nothing but just look up at him and hope that this was some sort of twisted joke gone too far. But deep down he knew that it wasn’t. It wasn’t at all. His eyes widened when Dean leaned down a little, glaring at him ominously.

“And now you’re gonna suck my cock,” Dean said matter-of-factly, letting his fingers rake through Sam’s hair only to suddenly grab a handful of it.

Sam gasped and tried to turn his head away when he realized what Dean was doing. But his older brother just tightened the grip on his chestnut locks and kept him from moving around too much. Held in place and with a smarting pain spreading in his scalp Sam scrunched up his face, letting out something close to a whimper.

“No! Stop! I won’t—“ Sam managed to burst out, but his words were muffled when his brother moved, pressing his rock hard erection against his lips. Horror instantly rippled through Sam, leaving every hair on his body to stand up straight and icy chills to ricochet throughout his body from the heels of his feet to the top of his head.

“Yes, you fucking will!” Dean barked, holding tightly on to his younger brother when he weakly tried to thrash in an attempt to dislodge him. The tip of Dean’s cock was rubbed back and forth on Sam’s lips, smearing slick pre-cum across the pink flesh. Panicked Sam wanted to close his lips as tightly as he could, preventing Dean from pushing himself inside – but the older Winchester’s free hand quickly grabbed his jaw, digging his fingertips into each side of it mercilessly. Sam let out a desperate groan when he felt the fatigued muscles in his jaw give in to the pressure, forcing his mouth to open.

Dean didn’t hesitate. Within a second he had pushed himself inside the hot wetness of Sam’s mouth, grinding his throbbing erection against his brother’s impossibly soft lips on the way in. Beneath him Sam screwed his eyes shut, making a whining noise when the taste of salty sweat, musk and bitter pre-cum spread on his tongue.

“Don’t even think about biting me or you’re gonna regret it! You hear me?!” Dean said, making sure to twist his hand in Sam’s hair a little for emphasis. A muffled, guttural sound escaped his younger brother as a result. But when it came down to it they both knew that the threat wasn’t necessary. Sam wasn’t going to bite even if he got the chance - not when he didn’t know if Dean was possessed or maybe under a spell. He wouldn’t hesitate if he knew that it was a shapeshifter on top of him though. But as long as he didn’t know the truth he wouldn’t dare risk hurting his brother. And Sam didn’t know. He didn’t know anything at all at the moment. 

“That’s more like it,” Dean coaxed, starting to thrust slowly in and out. He watched as Sam’s fingers were helplessly fidgeting to try to get out of belt tangled around his wrists – all while he tried not to choke on the thick length pushing deeper and deeper into his mouth. Fascinated by the sight Dean bucked his hips a little, ramming his cock in further and hitting the back of Sam’s throat. Even though his brother was drugged it didn’t seem to affect his gag reflex, because instantly he was coughing and spluttering.

“Whoa, Sammy… Gotta relax that throat,” Dean commented, breathing heavily as he pulled back a little to let his brother catch his breath. Heaving for air Sam looked up at Dean with watery eyes.

“Please, don’t—“ Sam begged, but with a quick movement Dean rammed himself down his throat again, cutting him off mid-sentence. Again Sam couldn’t help but splutter and gag, desperately trying not to choke. Excess saliva was quickly accumulating in his mouth along with pre-cum, threatening to suffocate him and bordering on full blown panic he coughed violently to try to clear his airway before it might get clogged up.

“Relax!” Dean ordered, tugging on Sam’s hair as if to catch his attention. Something about his brother’s voice, maybe the familiarity of its sound, had Sam automatically trying to comply. Almost without hesitation he tried to let his throat relax despite the invasion. And it actually did help the scary, suffocating feeling a little. Dean let out a soft, panting noise.

“Breathe through your nose,” he then said. This time it almost didn’t sound like an order. More like a suggestion.

Sam’s mind was spinning. Both confusion, revulsion and terror was flashing through his mind with a thousand miles per hour, threatening to knock him out. He wished that it would. But no matter how much he tried to provoke the dark edges of his vision to grow bigger and swallow him into unconsciousness, they stayed the same. Close, but out just of reach. And here he was. Painfully awake - yet not quite - and trapped on a messy motel bed with his brother grunting on top of him, ramming his dick in and out of his mouth. Another whimper made it out between Sam’s lips, but it was almost drowned out completely by the obscene, wet noises his mouth was making around Dean’s eager cock. And he realized that he was doing what Dean told him to. He was breathing through his nose and he hadn’t even noticed.

“God, you feel so fucking good, Sammy,” Dean groaned, his hips starting to snap forwards a little faster and a little harder. Trails of saliva were flowing down Sam’s cheeks and chin, and he knew that his eyes were welling up from the rough treatment.

“Tighten those lips for me,” Dean said under his breath, his fingers in Sam’s hair loosening their grip just a bit to rub against his scalp in repetitive circles. Soothing circles. If Sam didn’t know better he’d almost think that his brother was trying to calm him down. To offer some sort of comfort. Sam knitted his brows together in frustration and a hint of anger was now mixed in with all of the other emotions whirling through him all too fast and all at once.

A slight gargling sound escaped him when Dean thrust a little harder, smacking the spongy head of his cock against the back of his throat once more. Sam winced. And even though he didn’t at all want to do what Dean told him to, his panicked mind instantly informed him of why it would be a good idea. The faster his brother got off, the faster this would all be over. It was only logical. But how could he possibly comply? Could he at all? Because he didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of it. And he didn’t want to give Dean the satisfaction either.

“You’re not gonna cry, are ya?” Dean’s voice suddenly asked, pulling him out of his chain of thought. Blinking Sam realized that the water in his eyes was now threatening to spill down his cheeks. But he didn’t want to cry. He really didn’t. And definitely not in front of his brother or whoever this thing on top of him might be. He just wanted all this to be over.

Feeling his stomach churn and his nausea multiply he exhaled shakily through his nose. And he decided to give in. His cheeks began to burn fiercely when he finally convinced himself to tighten his lips as he was told to. Like his mind so brutally advised. It was the quickest way to end this. But it still felt like a blow to the gut. Sam felt absolutely pathetic and disgusted with himself as he tried his best to wrap his lips around Dean’s stiff length just hard enough to hopefully push him over the edge soon. He couldn’t possibly keep going at this speed for long, Sam thought dizzily.

“Oh, fuck! Oh! That’s it, baby…!” Dean groaned breathlessly, hips snapping faster and pistoning his cock in and out of Sam’s mouth at a mindboggling pace. Sam couldn’t help but tense up a little from the sudden change in rhythm and the frightening aggression with which his mouth was being assaulted, and he let out a choked whimper. With saliva and pre-cum coating his entire mouth and spilling from its corners he closed his eyes again, focusing on relaxing his throat and keeping his lips sealed tightly around his brother’s veiny cock. The thought of that alone had his stomach churning so violently that he was close to throwing up right then and there. He couldn’t believe that he was actually doing this. That he was sucking his brother’s cock. And doing it almost willingly. Never in his life had he felt this pitiful and degraded. It was pathetic. He was pathetic. And oh, how he loathed himself for it.

“Holy shit, Sammy…!” Dean groaned, his back slowly starting to arch and muscles starting to tense up. His breathing was getting more shallow by the second and Sam found himself repressing a sob when the thought hit him that maybe it would be over even faster if he used his tongue as well.

“Fucking hell! You’ve done this before, haven’t ya??” Dean said in a moan, his face red from arousal and exertion and covered in a sheet of sweat. Sam wanted to shake his head. Because he hadn’t. But held tightly in place he couldn’t protest and what was the point anyway? Instead he just stayed like he was, open and vulnerable and letting his big brother ram his dick down his throat.

Dean’s legs were beginning to shake against him and Sam found himself desperately hoping for him to climax. To just finish. It couldn’t take long now, that was for sure.

Looking up at his brother through wet lashes Sam realized that the room was still sailing, wobbling in and out of focus along with his brother. And his limbs still felt like they were made of some sort of incredibly heavy jelly. Whatever drug Dean had given him, it had to be potent.

“S-Shit!!” Dean growled, his face contorting into a grimace which looked like a mix between pain and ecstasy. And Sam felt the engorged cock between his lips grow even harder and slightly larger, and he prepared himself for his brother to come in his mouth. A shiver ran through him just thinking about it, and he had to focus hard in order not to start gagging all over again.

Dean’s thrusts started to grow erratic, his breathing had turned quicker and more labored and finally Sam closed his eyes. He was ready for it. Well, as ready as he could get, anyway. But just when he had expected for Dean to shoot his load, he suddenly pulled out of his mouth with a loud and wet ‘pop’.

Confused and surprised Sam stared up at him questioningly, heaving for air just as loudly as his brother was. He wondered if maybe this meant that Dean wasn’t going to come in his mouth anyway and instantly relief washed through him. Maybe he would settle for his chest or something, he thought hazily.

“Damn it, Sammy. You’re a little too good at this…” Dean panted, looking down at his younger brother in amazement.

“Jeez, you almost ended our fun prematurely. Can’t have that,” Dean said with a weird gleam in his eye that Sam didn’t understand. In fact he was beyond confused at this point, because Dean had stilled completely now. He wasn’t even stroking himself to completion. Instead his rock hard erection was just hovering above Sam’s swollen lips, throbbing and leaking drops of pre-cum. What was he waiting for? What was going on? But before Sam had the chance to think about it further, Dean let out a small laugh. Apparently he thought the look on Sam’s face was funny. 

“What? You didn’t think that I was done with you, did you? Oh no, our little date has just begun!” Dean smirked. And suddenly he was moving, scooting down his brother’s long and lean body only to sit on top of his thighs. Baffled Sam followed him with his glance, wide-eyed and sensing a strange and alien thought starting to creep into his mind. Desperately he tried to push the invading thought away, tried to reason with himself and convince himself that it couldn’t be. It couldn’t. Dean would never do that, no one in their right mind would.

“Let’s see what you’ve got down here, huh?” Dean said in a husky bass, and suddenly Sam felt fingers fidgeting with the button on his jeans. Sheer horror rushed through him so quickly that his vision blurred and the dark corners in it grew considerably bigger – and for a moment he thought that he might actually pass out.

“No!!” Sam heard himself shout, attempting to lift his legs off the bed to kick out at Dean. But they only seemed to twitch under his brother, sluggish and weak. They were completely useless. And this attempt at struggling back only earned him a small chuckle from the man on top of him.

“Christo…!” Sam blurted out – but that simply had Dean looking down at him in amusement and a short laugh escaped him. Not a demon then, Sam thought frantically.

‘Pop’. The sound sent an icy chill through Sam when he realized that it could only be the sound of his jeans’ button being opened.

“Dean, don’t! Please, don’t!” Sam pleaded breathlessly, resuming his attempts at trying to wriggle his wrists out of the belt tightly binding them together above his head. Even though his skin was already rubbed raw he tugged and twisted and pulled at his restraints, not giving a damn about the pain it caused. Because whatever his brother was planning on doing would definitely be much worse.

“Sshhh,” Dean merely said, and then a slow, metallic ‘zzzziippp’ reached Sam’s ears. Instantly it felt like he couldn’t breathe, like his lungs had simply stopped working – even though he could feel himself rapidly suck in huge amounts of air only to exhale them just as fast. None of that air seemed to be absorbed though. Instead Sam felt like he was in some sort of vacuum, suffocating.

“Easy, Sammy…” Dean said lowly – only to let his hand slip under the elastic waistband of Sam’s exposed trunks. The younger Winchester flinched. This couldn’t be happening. It simply couldn’t. His mind was racing frantically to come up with some sort of reason, some sort of logic to all of this. But he couldn’t find any. And his mind only spun faster when he felt Dean’s fingertips curiously explore his skin, travelling over his pubic bone and downwards into the thickening hair growth just above his dick.

“Don’t touch me!” Sam yelled, trying to squirm and buck under the weight of his brother. Dean merely sent him a crooked smirk.

“Oh, I’m gonna touch you, alright... Give you what you’ve been beggin’ for,” he said. In the same moment his hand grabbed a hold of Sam’s uninterested cock, giving it an experimental tug. Sam sucked in a quick breath of air through gritted teeth.

“Dean! Get your hands off me!” Sam said, jaws clenching and gaze fixed on his brother. For the first time in a while his glance didn’t stray and he was able to stay locked in eye contact with the man sitting heavily on top of him.

For a few seconds Dean just looked down at him with an almost perplexed look flashing across his features. Then his expression morphed into an accusing one and he narrowed his eyes.

“Really, Sam? After everything I’ve done for you? This is how you repay me?” he asked, tightening his grip around his little brother’s flaccid member. Sam instantly flinched and if his body had been able to he would have jumped right off the bed. Involuntarily a shocked gasp escaped him.

“What? What are you talking about!? Let me go!” he said in the most authorial voice he could muster. But he didn’t dare to move. Not while his brother’s hand was wrapped around his dick, squeezing it threateningly. Sam wanted to crawl out of his own skin.

“You fucking owe me!” Dean hissed – only to suddenly let go and retract his hand from Sam’s underwear, getting up from the bed with an angry growl.

Right away Sam wanted to scramble up towards the headboard of the bed and as far away from his brother as he could get. But his legs weren’t cooperating. Heavy and lazy they were just lying there, only moving a little. Sam only managed to awkwardly turn onto his side in a futile attempt to curl into a ball. Warily he kept his eyes on his brother.

“I’m not just gonna let that slip. Not this time,” Dean mumbled, rummaging about in the nightstand drawer next to the bed. He was looking for something it seemed, and Sam licked his swollen lip nervously.

”Look, Dean… Whatever this is about I’m sure we can work it out. Just-Just please, untie me,” he said, testing the belt around his wrists for the millionth time with the same result. The older Winchester didn’t respond though. Instead he pulled something out of the drawer only to smack it closed with a hard push that had Sam flinching and the piece of furniture wobbling against the wall.

“God damn it, Sam!” Dean hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers as if his brother was giving him a headache. As if he was some obnoxious kid getting on his nerves.

“You’ve been taunting me for ages, and you fucking know it!” Dean yelled, voice bouncing off the walls. Sam stared at him wide-eyed, unable to decide what words to choose in order to try to resolve the situation. To get Dean to listen to reason. Whatever was happening with his brother he had to figure out a way to stop it.

“I… I didn’t mean to,” Sam finally said in a small voice. Dean just glared at him.

“Yes, you did! Don’t play me for a fool, Sam! All this time you’ve been waving it in my face….” he said, voice dropping down a few notes as he approached the bed again. Instinctively Sam tried to back away, but it became nothing more than a lazy twitch.

“… Parading that perky, little ass around…” Dean continued and stopped just next to the bed. Sam’s gaze flicked down to look at the object in his brother’s hand and his breath hitched.

“Wh-What are you doing with that??” Sam heard himself ask. Dean tilted his head to the side a little, looking down at his brother with a new kind of predatory look in his eyes. He looked feral, Sam thought in a sudden and fresh rush of panic. Dean’s green eyes were dark and stormy, pupils blown and gaze fixed on his brother in a way that instantly had Sam’s skin covered in goose bumps.

“I’m making it good for you,” Dean stated matter-of-factly and waved the bottle of lube in front of his brother’s terrified face.

“No. No. Dean, don’t!” Sam burst out. Dean merely let out an annoyed huff.

“What? You want me to go in dry?” he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. All color instantly drained from Sam’s face. 

“Didn’t think so,” Dean chuckled and tossed the bottle of lube onto the sheets next to his younger brother. He then moved to the foot end of the bed and grabbed a firm hold of Sam’s legs.

As soon as Sam felt the tug on his jeans, he tried to kick out. But of course it didn’t result in much. Other than Dean letting out another chuckle when Sam’s socked foot nudged him uselessly.

“Stop!!” Sam shouted. He almost didn’t recognize his own voice. It sounded strangely unfamiliar - like that of a wild animal forced into a corner. But his older brother didn’t take any notice of his protest whatsoever. Instead he tore at the jeans, finally managing to pull them down over Sam’s hips and then off completely. Tossing them aside carelessly, Dean let them fall to the carpeted floor with a soft ruffling sound. With a swift movement he then bent down over his younger brother, hooking his fingers around the elastic waistband of his trunks and pulled them off as well, easily maneuvering them down his long legs even though Sam was desperately trying to prevent it.

“Dean, please listen to me!! You can’t do this!” Sam whined when he felt his lower body be stripped completely, stale motel room air blowing across his skin.

“Oh, but I can. And I will,” was Dean’s smug response as he straddled his younger brother’s thighs again with such confident superiority that Sam started trembling visibly. Mouth dry and eyes wide he stared up at Dean, completely shocked. And when his brother picked up the bottle to squirt a generous amount of the clear lube into his palm Sam couldn’t help but let out a small whimper.

“Please, don’t do this! I’ll-I’ll do whatever you want, just, please, not this! Not this!” Sam pleaded. Dean just let out an irritated sigh and rolled his eyes, closing his lubed up hand around Sam’s exposed cock. A choked gasp escaped the younger Winchester when the cold gel made contact with his feverishly hot skin, and he shook his head repeatedly as if he could somehow wake himself up from this nightmare. Because it had to be a nightmare, he thought desperately.

“Mmm,” Dean hummed, stroking the tender flesh in his hand, kneading it and playing with it and getting it fully coated with lube. Seeming completely indifferent to his younger brother’s distress he then lifted his knee off the mattress and lightly nudged it in between Sam’s thighs. 

“Spread,” Dean ordered, voice low and throaty.

“Or do I have to do it for you?” he asked, raising a brow inquiringly as he looked down at Sam.


	4. Chapter 4

The pressure of Dean’s knee wedging itself in between his naked thighs had Sam’s mind spinning violently and he didn’t manage to repress the terrified whimper escaping his mouth. Dean was just staring down at him, waiting for him to comply – all while his hand was still working on Sam’s flaccid cock, tugging and stroking eagerly. Instantly bile threatened to rise in Sam’s throat and he found himself shaking his head at his older brother. 

“N-No…” Sam whispered breathlessly. His eyes had watered up again and this time he wasn’t sure if he could stop himself from crying. Especially not when his older brother let his knee nudge his thighs once more, driving it in between his legs a little further. He was clearly getting impatient.

“Dean. I beg you. Please. Don’t.” Sam said, voice small and cracking. He didn’t mind begging at this point. In fact he was willing to do pretty much anything to get his brother to stop what he was doing. Heaving irregularly for air Sam looked up at him and he felt how his lower lip quivered. But he didn’t care.

“Please,” he repeated, a single tear finally breaking free and rolling down his cheek. Dean looked down at him with a frown, looking somewhat perplexed but also annoyed. An almost tired-sounding huff escaped him.

“Look, you can keep playing your stupid game if you want. Just spread your fucking legs already or I’ll do it for you,” he said flatly, nudging Sam with his knee again to make sure that his younger brother knew that he was being serious.

Sam shook his head – the movement slow yet jerky – while all sorts of unwanted thoughts and horrific imagery flashed through his mind with lightning speed. If the muscles in his body had been able to every single one of them would have stiffened in a panic. But the drug made them feel strangely lax and uncooperative. Out of his control.

“Fine,” Dean spat, refusing to wait any longer.

“You’re such a fucking cocktease…” he mumbled angrily – only to press his knee forcefully in between Sam’s long legs. All too easily his thighs were forced to spread even though every muscle in them was fighting to tense up and resist the push. With a firm hand Dean grabbed a hold of the meaty part of one of Sam’s thighs, digging his fingers into the thick muscle and guiding his leg to the side. Sam let out a desperate, panting noise when his legs were parted completely, leaving him utterly exposed to his brother.

“No, Dean! Please, don’t—“ Sam began, but Dean cut him off:

“Sssh,” he said, moving his hands in soothing circles over Sam’s inner thighs, covering them in lube and massaging them in a gentle way that made the younger Winchester’s skin crawl. With brows knitted closely together and a heat burning in his cheeks Sam lifted his head to look down, trying to keep an eye on his brother’s hands. And to his horror he saw that Dean’s dick was still standing at full attention, red and angry and with clear drops of pre-cum glistening on its tip.

“So beautiful…” Dean whispered, trailing his fingers down Sam’s cock and carefully continuing the journey down its base and onto his balls. Sam’s breath hitched when he felt his brother’s fingers exploring the sensitive flesh there, curiously feeling, fondling and caressing him. Dizzy Sam wanted to shout all kinds of profane protests at Dean, but all he managed to utter was a small whine.

“Can’t wait to find out how you feel around my cock,” Dean said and let his fingers wander further south. They slipped below Sam’s scrotum and onto his perineum at a slow and determined pace which had Sam letting out a terrified grunt. The lube on his brother’s fingers felt alien and cold, making his skin shiny and slick. He squirmed weakly in his restrained position on the bed, uncertain if he was going to retch or maybe – hopefully – pass out. 

“Calm down, Sammy. I just wanna make you feel good,” Dean said in that throaty bass voice which had Sam’s pulse pick up speed instantly.

“Then stop! Dean, I don’t want this!” he whimpered and let out a yelp when one of his brother’s fingers suddenly started to circle his entrance.

“Quit whining. It’ll be good. I promise,” Dean said under his breath, carefully nudging his digit against the furled muscle. He did it in an almost investigative manner as if he was testing and measuring the resistance of the body beneath him, contemplating how to proceed.

Sam sucked in a sharp breath of air. He had never been touched there before and instinctively he tried to clench to keep out any invading fingers – but his body only twitched sluggishly, leaving him just as lax and vulnerable as before. And apparently his brother had noticed, because his finger was moving faster now, applying just a tiny bit of pressure as it circled his hole. The smug smile had returned to Dean’s face as he looked down at Sam, greed and hunger sparkling in his green eyes.

“God, Sammy…” he groaned, chest rising and falling faster with growing excitement as he kept caressing and gently nudging at Sam’s entrance, slowly trying to loosen him up.

Sam let his head fall back down on the mattress with a mewl, face turned towards the door. He couldn’t get himself to watch what his brother was doing. And he didn’t want to look him in the eyes either. He just couldn’t. With cheeks still burning fiercely and dusting them a slight color of magenta he bit the inside of his cheek hard, desperately trying to disassociate himself the best he could from what was happening. This was too surreal to be true. Too crazy. Too cruel.

“That’s it,” Dean then said when the tip of his index finger slipped inside Sam. Instantly the younger man cried out and bucked his hips to try to get away from the unwanted and all too intimate touch. But Dean’s free hand clasped on to his thigh in a split second, pushing him back down – and sliding the finger all the way inside in the process, slippery lube just barely making sure that Sam didn’t tear. A hoarse yelp escaped Sam and he screwed his eyes shut, face scrunched up in a pained grimace and turned as far away from his brother as possible.

“No! Dean!!” he whimpered, hopelessly trying to communicate that he just wanted this to stop. Not that he hadn’t tried telling Dean that. But he couldn’t give up and accept what was happening to him. He had to keep fighting back. With the little he had. Whatever this creature possessing his brother was or what spell or curse he was under, Dean still had to be in there somewhere. He had to be in there and he had to hear him at some point.

“Oh, yeah. I knew you’d warm up to me,” Dean just said in a husky voice, slowly moving his finger around inside of Sam, probing at his walls and slowly forcing them to expand to accommodate the intruding digit.

Feeling how warm and fresh tears trickled down his cheeks to land somewhere in his hair Sam could do nothing but whimper when he felt his brother add another finger. It slowly slipped inside his fatigued body which reluctantly gave in to the determined push. The stretch burned – but not as viciously as Sam would have preferred. If only his brother made sure to hurt him enough for Sam’s mind to focus solely on the pain and not the humiliation, it would be better. At least it would take his mind off the fact that his own brother was abusing him. His own brother. His very own flesh and blood. The words echoed in Sam’s mind and he couldn’t hold back a sob, the sound of it mixed in with a gasp when Dean added a third finger.

“So sweet down here, baby. Always knew you’d be,” he said and sent Sam a short glance, green gaze filled with an animalistic want. And deeply focused on the task at hand he began fucking Sam with his fingers, slowly pulling them almost all the way out – only to push them back in.

Sam let out a choked sound. The feeling of his brother’s rough fingers dragging against his walls and stretching him open was so foreign and so wrong that he couldn’t wrap his head around it. The slight burning pain was strange but uncomfortably bearable, leaving him snapping irregularly for air. Apparently his brother was taking his time. But all Sam wanted was for this to be over with.

“Gonna getcha nice and open for me,” Dean breathed heavily and started to move his fingers a little differently inside of Sam. The younger Winchester felt himself twitch when the calloused fingers began to scissor him open, stretching him further and sending a dull pain through him. At this point tears were blurring Sam’s vision to the extent where the motel room door was just becoming a weird-looking blob of color and the more he stared at it, the fuzzier it seemed to get. The room was still sailing like he had been binge drinking liquor, but at least things had stopped swirling in that nausea-inducing wobbly fashion. But he still couldn’t use his muscles properly – he still felt like one big lead weight. Sluggish. Useless. And pathetic.

“Get it over with,” Sam heard himself say, almost inaudibly. For a moment the fingers inside of him stilled.

“What?” Dean said. He sounded genuinely surprised. Sam took a shaky breath.

“Just get it over with,” he repeated, still staring at the blurry motel door so hopelessly out of reach. Shaking from both fear and anger he realized that his hands had stopped trying to wriggle out of the belt. It was to no use anyway, and his skin was already bruised and rubbed bloody. Sam’s nostrils flared in a combination of nervousness and repulsion when the springs in the mattress squeaked under Dean as he shifted on top of him. Then Sam felt him lean down, gusts of warm breath suddenly hitting his cheek. His stomach churned. And he couldn’t help but flinch when Dean’s free hand grabbed a hold of his chin in order to turn his head towards him. Not able to withstand the pull Sam had no choice but to follow, but he carefully avoided eye contact. His brother was staring down at him, the tips of their noses so close to each other that they were almost touching.

“Sammy…” Dean whispered, thumb brushing lightly against the stubble on Sam’s chin.

“If I don’t prep you it’s gonna hurt,” Dean said in a compassionate voice. The sound of it had new tears forming in Sam’s eyes and the words hit him like a slap in the face – and for a few seconds he couldn’t help but glower back at Dean.

“Does it matter?” Sam spat bitterly. Dumbstruck the older Winchester just stared at him for a moment, looking a little taken aback.

“I want this to feel good. For both of us,” Dean said, confusion clearly present in both his voice and his facial expression as he returned Sam’s glare with a perplexed frown. Sam let out a short, choked laugh but it didn’t even sound much like a laugh. It was more like the guttural sound someone makes when punched square in the gut.

“Right! That’s why you’ve drugged me and tied me up?! To make me feel good?!” Sam yelled into his brother’s face, tears streaming freely down his cheeks and soaking his hair and the sheets. Dean’s jaw dropped a little and his eyes widened in bafflement.

“Yeah,” he then said matter-of-factly, pulling back a little. And in the same second he resumed moving his fingers still buried deep inside of his brother. But this time he did something different, crooking his fingers ever so slightly and bumping them into something that had Sam suddenly arching his back and curling his toes. Stars exploded in his field of vision, and he let out a shocked groan when a lightning bolt of a weird sort of pleasure shot through him. Heaving for air Sam lifted his head in bewilderment to look down at Dean’s hand, unsure of what the hell just happened.

“See?” Dean just said and bumped against that spot again, ripping another groan from Sam’s throat. Droplets of sweat were now rolling down his skin, coating it in a thin, shimmering sheet, and the younger Winchester couldn’t hold back a whimper when he felt a heat starting to pool somewhere deep in his stomach. And to his disbelief he felt himself starting to harden. Shocked he instantly flicked his gaze to his dick, not trusting what he was feeling – and to his horror and utter disgust he watched himself fill and grow treacherously stiff.

“That’s right. Just look at yourself, Sammy. You can’t tell me you aren’t enjoying this,” Dean said as he started to slide his fingers in and out of his brother at a slightly faster pace, making sure to brush against that little bundle of nerves that had Sam panting and writhing under him.

“I’m not…!” Sam groaned, his voice ending in a whine when Dean hit the spot again. The older Winchester let out a small chuckle.

“Your body’s saying otherwise,” he stated, finally letting go of his brother’s chin. Dean’s broad hand trailed down the shivering chest and stomach beneath him, following and studying every contour of muscle on its way down. He then closed his hand around Sam’s cock, giving it a couple of firm strokes that made Sam gasp. Looking mesmerized Dean stared down at the muscular body twitching and trembling from the touch, tanned skin covered in goose bumps and droplets of sweat which looked like shimmering, golden beads.

“God, you’re so fucking hot spread out for me like this,” Dean said breathlessly, grabbing the bottle of lube from somewhere in the mess of sheets. Eagerly he squeezed some more of the cool gel out into his hand and started stroking himself, coating his throbbing length with the slick substance.

“Ready for me, baby?” he asked and the bass in his voice seemed to almost vibrate through Sam’s body like a deep and rumbling warning, shrouding his mind in a raging wave of panic.

“N-No! No, don’t do this! Please, I don’t want—“ Sam burst out, but Dean was quick to interrupt him.

“Yes, you do,” he deadpanned and at the same time he pulled his fingers out from inside Sam, leaving the younger man to gasp from the sudden emptiness. And it only took a few seconds before Sam felt the thick and flared head of Dean’s cock press against his entrance, starting to push lightly. Instantly Sam screwed his eyes shut, trying to will his mind to block out what was happening to him. He wasn’t sure if he was making any sound or not, but it felt like his lips were forming the word ‘no’ over and over. 

“Open up for me,” Dean moaned, nudging a little harder at the furled muscle. Sam felt how a dull pain started to slowly spread as his brother applied more and more pressure, starting to breach him. 

“Dean!!” Sam cried in a desperate voice as a last attempt to somehow get this to stop. To get him to listen. But there was no reaction. Dean only pushed harder. And Sam heard his brother let out a grunt when finally his body gave in to the blunt pressure, letting the tip of Dean’s cock slip inside of him.

The stretch stung and Sam exposed his teeth in a silent scream, craning his neck and pushing the back of his head into the mattress as his body twitched and nearly arched off the bed. He couldn’t tell if it was from pain or shock or something else. A choked sound escaped him when he felt the hard length inside of him push in a little deeper, dragging against his walls and forcing him to expand beyond what he thought was physically possible.

“Fuck…!” he heard Dean groan, but the voice was strangely distant. Like it came from another dimension. And Sam was somewhat thankful for that, hoping that maybe he really was passing out this time.

“I knew you’d be tight, but damn…” Dean said, sounding out of breath. His rough digits dug into Sam’s hips, holding him still while he waited for Sam to adjust. A cruel kind of mercy which Sam wished he wasn’t forced to receive. It felt like his brother was actually trying his best to make this painless and that only added to Sam’s utter dread and disgust. How was he ever going to look his brother in the eye again?

“Dean…!” Sam burst out, but this time his voice didn’t come out as an angry cry – more like a sob. Just a hopeless, pathetic sob. Broken.

“Don’t worry. I gotcha,” Dean assured, running his hands back and forth over Sam’s thighs, kneading them and caressing every lube-covered inch of trembling skin gently.

Despite his body’s protests Sam could feel himself starting to relax around Dean and helplessly he tugged a little at his restraints again, but it was only a halfhearted attempt. He couldn’t free himself. He couldn’t stop this. He knew that now. It was completely out of his control and all he could do was lie here and take it. Another sob escaped him and he chewed on his inner cheek. Just to feel something else, just to distract himself a little bit. A coppery taste spread in his mouth and he tried focusing on the pain now radiating from the bruised flesh.

“Ohh, yeah, that’s it. Give in, Sammy,” Dean said, clearly noticing how Sam’s struggling was slowly fading and his body going more lax by the minute. And carefully Dean drove himself a little further into his little brother, slowly but surely bottoming out and burying himself inside of him completely. Sam let out a small, high-pitched mewl, chest heaving fast and his breathing ragged. It didn’t even hurt that much, he thought feverishly. If only it did.

“Oh, fuck! Oh god, you feel amazing!” Dean panted and started to pull out a little. Sam could feel him shudder with pleasure as he dragged his engorged cock along his walls, the spongy head catching on his rim and ripping a hiss from Sam’s throat when it burned. And then Dean pushed back in. This time it almost didn’t hurt at all, Sam thought wearily. Clearly the prep, the lube and his drug-induced relaxed state were playing a major role in that. He felt almost catatonic when Dean began rocking back and forth, picking up his pace and rolling his hips to bury himself in Sam as deep as he could go with every thrust.

“Please stop,” Sam said, but the words didn’t make it past his lips. Instead they got swallowed up somewhere deep in his throat and ended up soundless. Everything was sailing, even behind his closed eyelids everything was just doing endless barrel rolls. His mind was spinning too, but the alluring promise of unconsciousness kept eluding him and stayed just out of reach. 

“Gonna make ya feel so fuckin’ good,” Dean said and suddenly grabbed a hold of one of Sam’s legs to lift it up and wrap it around his waist, holding it there. Shifting a little on top of him, Dean angled his hips differently – and then he slid back into the slick heat which was hugging his cock so tightly that it had him wondering if he might come too fast. He let out a grunt and buried himself to the hilt, making sure to bump into that magical, little spot inside of his brother again.

Sam’s eyes instantly shot open and he let out a shocked moan, white dots of light emerging in his field of vision from out of nowhere. Sweaty and panting he looked down at himself only to see his own cock now standing completely erect and sprouting drops of pre-cum from its tip.

“No, no, no, no,” he heard himself say in what sounded like some sort of panicked chant. The slaps of skin against skin seemed to echo in the small motel room and the smell of sex and sweat hung heavily in the air. Dean let out a throaty grunt each time he thrust into the writhing body beneath him, and he was beginning to pick up his pace, ramming harder and harder into his brother with a hungry need that Sam had never seen before.

“That’s the spot, huh, Sammy?” Dean panted and bucked his hips a little harder, his balls smacking heavily against Sam’s buttocks each time. As his prostate was struck over and over again a heat started to spread in Sam’s loins and suddenly he heard himself let out a moan. And to his horror it wasn’t a pained one this time. A deeper shade of magenta instantly flared up on his cheeks, and he chewed harder on his inner cheek while his dazed mind raced to convince him that this had to be some sort of bad dream. He couldn’t be reacting this way to what his brother was doing to him. He couldn’t.

“Gonna make you cum,” Dean said in a groan, and in the same moment he closed his hand around Sam’s twitching erection. Sam let out a surprised hiss at the unexpected touch, screwing his eyes shut once more.

“Please, Dean…!” he whimpered, but he couldn’t finish the sentence. Whatever protest he was going to say got jumbled up in his mind, the words stumbling on each other and never making it out of his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty when you beg,” Dean said and placed his thumb on the tip of Sam’s throbbing cock, circling the slit with the pad of his finger and smearing the glistening pre-cum across the swelling flesh. Sam’s breath hitched. And before he knew it he was letting out a string of small moans.

“D-Dean…!” he gasped when stars of bright, white light emerged in his field of vision and threatened to turn his entire world a uniform white color. Panicky he bit hard into the inside of his cheek again, this time more than hard enough to draw blood. But despite the pain and the intense taste of copper spreading in his mouth the stars in his vision didn’t fade. Instead they seemed to grow in numbers, warning him of a pending orgasm that he didn’t at all want. Or did he? Somehow he couldn’t tell anymore. Dizzy and disoriented he heaved for air when he felt his brother’s warm hand starting to stroke him with slow and determined tugs.

“Come for me, Sammy,” Dean groaned, slamming himself against him and still relentlessly hitting that soft spot deep inside of Sam that made him moan out a litany of choked no’s and ah’s mixed in with his brother’s name.

“That’s it, baby,” Dean’s voice said. As if on cue Sam’s back arched off the bed when his brother’s strokes turned a little firmer and a little faster, and he couldn’t help but buck his hips. As he mindlessly sought more friction a gut wrenching feeling of shame washed through him and he didn’t know what to do with any of it. It was too much.

The sheet beneath him was soaked in tears and sweat and Sam could feel himself starting to tremble violently while his heart tried to beat right out of his chest, its frantic drumming roaring in his ears. Wheezing for air he felt how his brother moved inside of him, seeking out that little bundle of nerves with scary precision. It was all too much for Sam to handle. And the hand jerking him off worked tirelessly on ripping those treacherous moans from his throat – obscene sounds of a pleasure that he didn’t welcome but suddenly didn’t refuse either. Too much. Too much of everything.

“Come, Sammy…!” Dean moaned and thrust deeper and harder, his hand a blur on his little brother’s cock. And beneath him Sam let out a ragged moan when the sensory overload pushed him to the point of no return. His legs trembled and he gasped for air when his lax muscles suddenly tensed up of their own accord, leaving him arching and curling his toes – and then it hit him like a derailed freight train.

The orgasm ripped through Sam with such intensity that he forgot to breathe. The stars in his vision exploded in a bright flash, the white light expanding so fast that Sam was instantly blinded. He could feel himself clenching hard around his brother’s cock still pumping in and out of him, making wet sounds that were both vile and horrifically delicious. And then his entire body was spasming. With muscles twitching and flexing involuntarily, thick ropes of cum shot from his cock to splash across his abdomen and chest, covering it in white and sticky spatters. Sam wasn’t sure if he was screaming or not, but his mouth was open and his throat was straining painfully as if he was.

“F-Fuck…!!” Dean grunted above him and Sam felt fingernails digging into his thigh and hip hard enough to bruise. The thrusts were erratic now as hard and fasts bucks of Dean’s hips drove Sam into the mattress, making the springs inside it shriek loudly.

Still seeing the world through a white shimmer, Sam felt how he was stretched impossibly wide when Dean grew even bigger and harder inside of him. Drops of hot sweat were dripping down on him and as Sam came down from his high, the pleasure from seconds ago started to slowly turn painful. And as it did the realization hit him just as hard as the orgasm had. Not only was he being fucked by his own brother – but he had gotten off on it. He had actually gotten off on it, he thought dizzily. The splatters of sperm all over his belly were bitter proof of that. Sam shuddered as a whole new wave of disgust rolled through him.

“Fuck, Sammy!!” Dean growled, and his face contorted into a grimace looking like a mix between bliss and agony. In the same moment his body shook, a spasm rippling through every muscle as he bucked hard enough for Sam to let out a pained whine. Letting out a choked roar Dean then buried himself as far as he could possibly go, driving his cock into Sam with a last, jerky movement of his hips. 

Sam let out a small cry as he felt how his brother came inside of him, warm jets of semen filling him up along with an unbearable feeling of shame. Suddenly he wasn’t sure if he was going to be sick. Shuddering he closed his eyes when Dean finally collapsed on top of him, burying his face in the crook between Sam’s neck and shoulder, breathing heavily against his skin. With their chests pressed flush against each other Sam cringed as cum mixed with sweat and lube was smeared everywhere, coating their overheated skin in a sticky sheet. Dean was still inside of him, slowly going flaccid, and for a moment he just seemed to rest on top of Sam, droplets of sweat trickling from every pore on his body. 

“P-Please get off me,” Sam said in a small voice that he almost didn’t recognize. It sounded strangely vacant. It sounded broken.

“No aftercare, huh?” Dean chuckled against his neck, out of breath. But he stayed slumped on top of Sam for a little while longer. Sam couldn’t tell if it was because he needed to regain his composure or if it was because he was actually enjoying this strange pseudo-intimacy. Sam didn’t know, and he didn’t care which one it was. All he knew was that he needed Dean to get the hell away from him. Because his brother’s weight - his mere presence - felt like it was suffocating him, and trembles ran through Sam’s body as he desperately tried to calm himself down instead of panicking. 

“Alright then,” Dean then finally mumbled and rolled off his brother. Sam drew in a relieved breath and winced when he felt Dean’s soft cock slip out of his abused hole, cum instantly starting to dribble out of it and blotch the sheets. But to Sam’s surprise Dean didn’t get up - instead he only turned onto his back, settling next to his brother on the bed.

Sam didn’t dare to move. Or speak. Or even look at his brother. Instead he was staring at the ceiling, which still seemed to be swirling around before his eyes like everything else in the room – except it was swirling slightly faster now. The feeling of heaviness had returned to his body with a vengeance as well, pinning his limbs to the bed like they were made of lead or wrought iron. He felt nauseous. Scared. Drowsy. Yet still uncomfortably sleepy somehow. 

For what felt like an eternity there was silence in the motel room except for the occasional ruffling of the dirty sheets when Dean shifted slightly. A deep sigh then escaped his lips. A satisfied one. Instantly Sam’s stomach churned and a taste of bile spread in his mouth by the sound.

“You know…” Dean said in his gravelly voice as he turned on to his side to face his brother, propping himself up on an elbow.

“I knew we’d be perfect together,” he smiled, a gleam in his green gaze mimicking one of true fondness. Sam didn’t see it though. He was still staring at the ceiling, helplessly trying to get his eyes to focus – but instead of fixing on a point his glance just kept darting off in random directions. And his eyelids were getting heavy, he realized.

“Told you we’d be,” Dean said softly, just looking at his brother with an affectionate expression on his face.

“Please untie me,” Sam said, voice hoarse and cracking. Dean tilted his head a little, sending his brother a small smile.

“Sure, Sammy,” he said and moved closer, reaching his hand up to his brother’s bound wrists. Instantly Sam flinched when Dean leaned over him without any hesitation, starting to work on freeing his hands. Because Sam didn’t at all want him this close. If his body hadn’t turned limp and heavy and useless he would have automatically tensed up, but in this lax state he couldn’t. And in order to get rid of the belt tying him to the bed he knew had no choice but to let Dean tower over him. Again.

Shuddering he averted his blurry gaze to look somewhere else but at Dean while he undid the belt. Confused and surprised by his brother’s willingness to let him go Sam furrowed his brows lightly, nervously licking his dry bottom lip. He realized that it tasted of musk and his nausea immediately doubled in intensity.

“There we go,” Dean said as he freed Sam’s hands, pulling the belt away. Instantly Sam wanted to take a swing at Dean, to punch him square in the face, to scramble out of the bed, to flee as fast and as far away as he could – but nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. His hands just plopped down on the mattress. And they stayed there.

“You know it was for your own good, right?” Dean asked and brushed a stray strand of hair away from his brother’s cheek. Sam’s face scrunched up by the unexpected touch and he let out a small gasp as he weakly turned his head away. Dean huffed in response. There was silence for a moment while Sam fought to get his body to move. But he couldn’t move his limbs no matter how hard he tried – and he was beginning to have trouble keeping his eyes open. The sound of sheets softly ruffling then caught Sam’s attention and he realized that Dean was shuffling closer to him. 

“N-No…” Sam heard himself say, but it came out as a slurred and almost inaudible whisper. Then he felt Dean carefully roll him onto his side – only to cuddle up against his back, wrapping his arms around him.

“It’s alright, I gotcha…” Dean breathed against his nape, nuzzling his nose into the back of it and breathing in his scent.

Sam felt himself tremble – at least he thought he did, but he couldn’t tell. It was like he couldn’t feel his body anymore. In fact he couldn’t feel anything. Not even the gut wrenching fear and disgust he knew had to be there. And his eyelids were slowly closing. He didn’t even know if he wanted them to or not.

“I love you, Sammy,” Dean’s voice whispered, but it seemed to come from miles away. And Sam felt his eyes closing, gradually shutting out the swirling blurriness of the motel room. He didn’t know if it was minutes or just seconds that passed, but his sleepiness was quickly overwhelming him, dragging him down into a weird and soft semi-consciousness. It felt like he was wrapped in cotton. No, it was his brother’s arms, Sam hazily reminded himself. And all coherent thoughts then seemed to diffuse into nothingness as the darkness behind his eyelids took hold of him, plunging him into the depths of a dreamless sleep. 


End file.
